What we do matters...

Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.          ~Scott Adams

She had been retired for four years, and with each passing month she felt farther and farther removed from the work world that had dominated her life. It was such a pleasant life, this getting up when she woke up and going to bed when she was tired! After her husband had retired, they did most things together. They took trips together that were wonderful-- Italy and Switzerland, the southwest US... and of course to visit family. Grocery shopping. Socializing with couple friends. It seemed the only time she went out by herself was to visit her aged mother and the occasional meal out with old friends. She found herself feeling a little isolated...

When the invitation to join some former work friends for lunch came, she jumped at the chance. It had been a long time since she'd visited with these friends. They were all nurses, one was retired like she was, the other two still working. They had been part of a leadership team that had meant a great deal to her-- together they'd built a fledgling new hospital into an excellent center of healing.

They met at a local restaurant, just a short distance from the hospital so the two still working could get back to work quickly. The server who waited on them was a large woman, fairly young. She was all business, and very efficient and polite. Like all good servers, she made herself useful without intruding on the lively conversation that the group of four were having.

They talked about their families, their lives, how the hospital was faring these days. They laughed and shared a few photos. The food was really not that important to the enjoyment of the get together, but it was good.

About the time they were ready to take the checks, the server approached them. She looked at one of them and asked, "Did you work at the hospital?" Shelley nodded. The server looked again, this time at Nell and asked the same question, "Did you work at the hospital?" All four chimed in-- "We all did! Two of us still do!"

She had been approached in the past when out in public by former patients who remembered her and she always held her breath, thinking, "Did I do a good job for them? Did everything go okay? Are they okay now?" She was certain all four were thinking this as the server spoke. What if she is going to complain? Or get mad?

The server began to tell her story... of how she had her baby (on the unit Barb was leading at the time...), ended up with complications that resulted in a two week stay on the Med/Surg unit (that Lisa had led...) and a referral to the Wound Specialist (Shelley!). And Nell, the VP of Nursing at the time, had been in to visit with her several times during her stay to make sure everything was going okay. Each of the four had touched her life in some way. Their jobs had been to make sure her stay went well.

The server ended her story by saying, "Thank you for the work that you do. Thank you for your kindness. It made all the difference. What you do matters to those of us out here... God Bless You!"

Still a little misty thinking about this, she realized that what she will remember most from the server speaking to them is  "What you do matters to those of us out here... " She will try to remember those words when she feels isolated and perhaps a little left behind. Kind acts of service years ago can have a ripple effect that one will rarely will ever know about. No matter one's profession, what we do matters. Not only nurses, but literally everyone... even retired people... can impact the lives of those around us in ways we can't fully know. What we do matters.

Perhaps the dream isn't dead?

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

                    ~Martin Luther King, Jr.


February is Black History Month.  I have heard that my grandsons are learning some important lessons in pre-school and pre-K about the contributions that black people have made to our country. My son recently posted this photo on Facebook of 5 year old Sam's project on Mary Eliza Mahoney, the first black nurse in America.

Of course I was touched to the core by Sam's use of me as the example of how to be caring. What grandmother doesn't want to be seen in this way by her beloved grandchildren! And his interpretative drawing of his grandmother as a skinny blond made me smile even bigger. I will admit to a few happy tears!

I've been thinking about Sam's project all week...

First of all, I think all my fellow nurses would be pleased that a 5 year old's description of a nurse is strong, brave, loving and caring. Yup... that's a nurse!  I think of all the times I had to move a 200+ pound pregnant woman, immobilized by an epidural, up in bed or over on her side all by myself, or assist the surgeon during a cesarean using close to brute force to extricate the baby, or bend and stoop over and under a bed... well, no wonder my feet and joints are a mess. And having to intervene in a family dispute occurring in the hospital while a woman was in labor happened way more often than I care to think about, and it took some bravery. Or to call a physician in the middle of the night with bad news. And of course, Ms. Mahoney had all this and a terrible lot more to deal with. She did her nursing duties without the one huge obstacle I never had to face-- institutionalized bigotry. This is a burden so large I can't adequately speak to it, other than to say that she is indeed a superhero to me for having persevered through that.

But there is more to this than just a thank you to a nurse and an acknowledgement of her achievements. Look at Sam's drawings...

She was as strong as Iron MAN. As brave as a fireMAN. As loving as his family. As caring as his Grandma Barb.  There is a lot of diversity in this...

Sam lives in a suburb of Washington, DC in what has to be one of the most diverse places in the country. The son of German/English and Italian/Irish parents, his classmates and friends are all colors, from all over the globe, diverse religions, and women and men who work outside and inside the home along side each other. In Sam's world, women are as strong and brave as men, and men are as caring and loving as women. And different religious beliefs mean he gets to participate in new holidays-- he loves the Sedar meal served during Passover at his friend's house, and singing songs about Hannukkah as well as Christmas in December. I have heard other languages I couldn't even identify spoken at his preschool program. And the diversity of culture means many, many different restaurant choices for us to try when we visit!

A kid growing up in this environment barely notices when people look or talk differently than he does... and so it was natural that he would describe a black woman from long ago (when women were seen as weak, and black people were routinely mistreated to the extreme...) in terms that are usually reserved for white male superheroes.  I love this... Sam's view of the world is the one that feminists from his grandmother's era were striving for. And that I think Martin Luther King, Jr. was referring to when he gave his "I have a dream" speech. I'm not saying we've fixed racism, sexism, religious bigotry--not by a long shot. But Sam's experience gives me hope that it is possible.

Bless this little boy, and his mommy and daddy and his teachers and all his friends...